


A Taste of Life

by SeirKairikun



Category: Léon | The Professional (1994)
Genre: Adaptation, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Genderbending, Healing, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I srsly dunno, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, Sharing a Bed, Slice of Life, Trans Leone Montana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-01-05 05:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18359792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeirKairikun/pseuds/SeirKairikun
Summary: A modern AU adaptation of the 1994 film. Basically genderbend Leone and Mathilde living a peaceful life and end up loving each other, and some involvement of Stansfield, Tony and other original characters as well.





	1. Bickering.

**Author's Note:**

> Leone is 27 and Mathilda is almost 18 in this chapter.
> 
> The story will not follow a normal timeline. In other words, the ages of the characters and the time period in their life depicted in each chapter will vary. Each chapter is in slice of life form... and if other things pop up i will put them in Notes section. Some chapters will refer to events in the film though.
> 
> I wrote this partially to make up for the angsty ending of the film and partially was a fic for my friend.  
> First fic ever, so any comments/criticism, kudos and bookmarks please do so.

Leone is home early from the hospital on a Friday evening in summer.  
“How unusually annoying yet affectionate for you to return at this time of day,” Mathilda sing-songed to the slim figure at the door, currently busy hanging up her jacket on the hanger beside her.  
“If you had sang something better I believe I would have spared some mercy on you and cooked you a hot dinner,” the elder woman replied dryly.

“You are my legal guardian.” Mathilda retorted indignantly, eyes still stuck to the TV screen.  
“So what? You’re turning eighteen this week. Go scavenge yourself.”  
“Not yet eighteen. You are still burdened with the responsibility to feed me - for the last couple of days, at least.”  
“Since when have you started to be so practical about time?” Leone, sensing the stress on the words "at least", sighed at the young brunette spread-eagled on the couch. Came no reply from said girl.

Sighing, Leone walked towards the kitchen, glimpsing at the TV Mathilda's been watching for maybe the entire afternoon.

“Nat Geo, huh?” Cocking one of her eyebrows at the drastic change of channels that Mathilda’s been watching, Leone proceeded to her destination and snatched two cartons of milk from the fridge before throwing one to Mathilda. She caught it with ease.

“Satisfied?” Mathilda finally tried to maneuver on the small couch and turned around to face Leone’s direction. Now she lay across it, head on one armrest and bare feet on the other.  
“Not really. That was one of my expectations towards you. You know, stop watching Transformers and do try to find something with a full and mature meaning to entertain yourself.” Leone looked into the brunette’s eyes and said flatly.  
“Ugh. I’m not an adult yet but I’m not a kid.” The sort-of triumphant smirk on Mathilda’s face faded into a fake disgusted frown.  
“Who was the one who said I have the responsibility to feed you again?”  
“Fine!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter a long time ago, not long after I've watched the movie.  
> So it's short.  
> And the plot is nonexistent. It's just some of the two's normal bickering.
> 
> I know that Leone is super out of character, has a job of a doctor as cover, and isn't illiterate...
> 
> It's just a start though. I am trying to make my work better over time!  
> 


	2. Healing a wound... Along with reluctance (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay...I don't know how to title this piece. I don't know.  
> It's a process when Mathilda helps Leone accept her love and Leone's own feelings for Mathilda.
> 
> Sort of teen and up content coming up next. Stay tuned though...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not want to post the chapter this soon... but I guess i would feel better if i did so.  
> I don't want people regarding this work as an unfinished one, and I love this movie too much.
> 
> So... yep.

Things should not have developed this way, Leone thought with bitterness.  
The whisky, the confessions, the outburst of emotions. Mathilda led her on and on in a direction that went wrong. So wrong that it broke her. So very wrong that now, she was positioned like an obedient rag doll against the headboard of her bed by Mathilda, shivering at the feeling of the younger girl’s slightly calloused right hand against the side of her neck.

When Mathilda was still 13, months after she had stumbled (with all the might and courage a girl at that age could muster) into Leone’s life, she had said that she loved her. Loved Leone Montana, a lone killer, an Italian immigrant with none to depend on, a mercenary who works for 5000 bucks a head - but Mathilde loved her.

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Leone.” Mathilda had said. Eight words and the soft pronunciation of Leone’s name formed one sentence, and there were nothing else.

“How do you know it’s love if you have never been loved before?”  
Leone replied back, turning around but not quite facing the girl.

“I can feel it.”  
“Where?”  
“Here. In my stomach.” Mathilda shuffled a bit on her bed that Leone had spared her and put her hands on her bare midriff.  
“It’s all warm.” A brief pause. ”There used to be a knot in there, but now it’s gone.”  
Leone turned her head back so that she faced the mirror again. In the reflection she could see Mathilda still lying face up, but she felt her gaze focusing on her.

“Hmm. I’m glad that you don’t have to endure stomach aches anymore, but I have to go to the hospital. I don’t like being late for work.” That was Leone’s pale reply to Mathilda’s first ever confession. Now, 6 years later, she was going to pay the price for that moment.

“Leone… Don’t fool me.” Mathilda breathed, face merely inches away from the other. “I may have been young and naive, but I know what I want perfectly. All the time. All I wanted was your reciprocation of my feelings and I thought you would know, and you would eventually accept-”  
“You will never understand, Mathilda…” Leone’s voice shook. She saw the addressed girl’s face morph into an expression that seemed hurt, shocked and angry at the same time. But nevertheless, she stayed silent and waited.

“I was split. I experienced heaven and hell at the same second when you told me that you loved me six years ago. I - I could never forget that moment.” A swallow.  
”I was so joyous that one actually felt love for such a damned person like me, but I was also horrified. I was scared because - because I realized I could bring danger to you by being attached to you, by loving you back in the same way. I value you like nothing else in this world, I wanted to do the best I could to protect you, but I was so scared of losing you… So I decided to deprive myself of any opportunity of obtaining this bliss in the first place. If you could ever forgive me for saying this, I-”

“Shut up,”

Mathilda cupped Leone’s face with one hand and closed the gap between their lips forcefully.  
Leone’s brain went blank.

Her sight melted into darkness as she drowned in the warm, sweet scent of Mathilda - a mix of chocolate milk and whisky.  
Their tongues then came into contact and the younger one took the lead. It was a wordless dance with fireworks and flares, a violent downpour of venomous passion, a taste of life. And then it ended, a fleeting kiss, as abrupt a closure as how it had started in the first place.

Mathilda broke the kiss. She watched as Leone lay underneath her with grey eyes closed, rasping heavily.

“Leone Montana, don’t you even think you are allowed to say those things, you self-righteous jerk,” She demanded. “I understand. I understand perfectly. You thought you were protecting me, but that was just being selfish. The worst thing I could ever experience in my whole life, apart from losing my little brother-” Leone widened her eyes at the bold mention of Mathilde’s long-regretted loss, ”-was losing you.”

“Who do you think I am? Still a kid that couldn’t be taken seriously? - I deserve the right to love and be loved, and I swear to god that nobody - NOBODY - could take that away from me. Not even you yourself. None of your self-denial and criticism could stop me from leaving you alone and suffering.”  
Mathilda’s voice smoothed down when she saw Leone’s eyes start to well up with tears like a small child.

“Believe me.”  
She kissed those delicate teardrops away from the corner of her lover’s eyes. Then she straightened and straddled Leone’s lap, eyes glinting with mild interest and desire.  
“And just to make sure…If you’re still not that convinced, I’ll show you what I am capable of then.”  
She started to undo the zipper of her trademark grey-green jacket. It was not until the pale skin underneath her shirt was revealed did Leone realize what the younger girl had wanted.

“Mathilda…!” Leone gasped.  
The brunette, closing in again, pecked the side of her former guardian’s neck, earning her a sigh that barely concealed the person’s torrent of emotions. 

“Say that you love me too, Leone.” Unintentionally licking her lips, she softly commanded her lover.  
Mathilda’s hands - soft, cold, nimble ones - started tugging at Leone’s half undone tie.  
“Do as I say…”

Leone inhaled. The words - the promise six years late - came finally as a hot breeze into both of their yearning ears.

“I love you too, Mathilda.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have zero self confidence about the quality of my depictions in this chapter...  
> I mean, they're mildly drunk. Leone is not a person who would accept changes this quickly, and their behavior after those confessions is partially because of alcohol... Leone is disastrous when it comes to true feelings, so I get too fussed up writing her side of confession. It's not even close to how the movie presents Léon's emotions.
> 
> And my grammar...sucks.
> 
> But they love each other nevertheless. <3
> 
> p.s. the "hospital" part is mentioned in the Notes regarding the last chapter. Leone has a legally obtained doctor's job as cover.  
> I promise I would write up some sort of profile about Leone and Mathilda in my AU...


	3. Character Profile...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Profiles for my two main characters.

First Name: Mathilda  
Last Name: Lando  
Gender: F  
Age: 18  
Family Members: Mr. & Mrs. Lando (deceased), sister (deceased), younger brother (deceased)

Acquaintance: Leone Montana (guardian), Tony  
Profession: junior “cleaner”, protege of Leone Montana  
Education Status: (formerly) attends/skips school, (currently) homeschooled by Leone Montana  
Possessions: uncertain amount of money, stuffed toy (rabbit), revolver (given by Leone Montana)

 

First Name: Leone  
Middle Name: Reyes  
Last Name: Montana  
Gender: F  
Age: 28  
Family Members: Unknown (gonna mention them in chapters later on!)

Appearance: Leone Montana is a young woman of Italian descent. She is slender and considered taller than average (≧168 cm). She has black-brown hair that is usually tied up into a loose braid when she is not required to change her appearance during cleaning, grey eyes and a slightly bronzed complexion (resulted from her early years spent in her home country). She also possesses a smooth, low voice that a younger Mathilda commented as an "alluring contralto".  
She wears easy clothing in order to enable swift motion during combat. In the hospital she dons a surgeon’s outfit (duh…).  
Quick fact: Leone has a small scar about an inch or less on the right side of her jawbone.

Acquaintance: Mathilda Lando, Tony (former mentor and current broker for “cleaning” business)  
Profession: surgeon (cover job), professional killer (real job), legal guardian and mentor of Mathilda Lando  
Education Status: graduate from Johns Hopkins University , owner of doctoral degree in anatomy, former protege of Tony  
Possessions: various weapons (firearms, explosives, knives, etc.) and medicines (anaesthetic, drugs and pills, first aid kit, etc.) used in business, surgeon’s ID, rented apartment in Queens, New York City, (Mathilda Lando) (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wellllllllllll...  
> I have written profiles for Mathilda and Leone.  
> Mathilda's basically follows the movie so I skipped her "Appearance" part (there are some things that I'm still puzzled with such as her school etc.), but I am not sure people will be 100% satisfied about Leone's (if anyone sees my work of course)...
> 
> Leone resembles Léon in her personality, but so much differs from the movie and Leone's character largely follow my own taste and preferences... so I pondered a bit. If you guys think there is room for improvement then please comment and I will make alterations if i see fit.
> 
> p.s. And, I sure do hope that I will have the time to draw and upload a profile picture of Leone some day in the future. She looks sort of like Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano (Reyna is Puerto Rican btw) from the Percy Jackson series in my imagination, only older and with grey eyes.


	4. Healing a wound... Along with reluctance (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They digest their emotions, get things happily resolved (in the aid of whisky maybe?) and consider planting Leone's green plant in Central Park somewhere.  
> Super.  
> SHORT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to (1) posted beforehand.

“I love you too, Mathilda.”

Mathilda sent kisses down Leone’s jawline, tip of her tongue brushing the small scar positioned there - a decoration from long before, evidence of a distant, negligent past.  
She felt Leone tense up.

Mathilda recalled a young self querying Leone about the scar, and the answer she got was long, considering that Leone always answered her questions (that pop up rather frequently) with brevity. When she was 19, in an attempt to flee from her abusive father, Leone received the scar when a shard of glass from the window she broke out stroke her face. Very light the contact was, but it left an everlasting scar.

“Why didn’t you treat it for good?” Mathilda commanded.  
“I didn’t want to,” Leone had stared at Mathilda’s jawline, which was perfectly intact, and said flatly back.

“I’m glad you left it,” Pulling herself back to reality (and onto Leone), Mathilda mused, index finger caressing that small, pale mark.  
“Why is that so?”

“So that I could treat it for you.”

“That is a scar, Mathilda - buy me a Mederma if you have the chance. I will be very thankful.”

“You’re still not imaginative enough.” Sighed the youngster. “I can’t believe you’re an Italian and stuff.”  
That is so stereotyping, Leone thought. But she has a point.

“I sometimes feel that I am emotionally too old and out of fashion to be in love with you.” 

“Mmhm. That’s true.” Brown, saccharine, half-lidded eyes winked.

They proceeded further with silence.

The lights overhead were out. Neither of them bothered to spare any attention on the nightstand either.

Mathilda’s right hand snaked around Leone’s waist, ruffling her white shirt on its way; her left went to palm the other’s neck, drawing her closer. She hit a sensitive spot, and Leone made a small noise that resembled a cat with its stomach being rubbed.  
“Shh…”  
The brunette murmured, right hand supporting Leone’s torso, and slid her left hand further up, cupping her face.

Silence, as serene and comforting as it could be, settled between the two.  
There is no need for words whatsoever.

“Listen.”  
“Maybe you could plant your evergreen somewhere, Leone. In Central Park.”

“It resembled you, you said.”

“I guess it should still.”  
Mathilda whispered, eyes boring into Leone’s grey ones once again.  
Those small pools of bittersweet chocolate seemed softer and...almost mesmerizing.

Leone wondered a bit, her brain fuzzy and her limbs warm.  
“I’ll consider that.” She yawned, half smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah...  
> I know it's been a while since my last update...  
> Exams and stuff coming up so plz forgive.  
> Also i don't know for sure if Leon's plant in the movie was agave...  
> Please tell me if it's not.
> 
> P.S. a big shoutout to my friend (who told me that she completely forgot her AO3 account)!  
> She's been a really big motivation, giving me positive feedback and advice and stuff like that.  
> Best thing ever.


	5. A Q with no A??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little question that nobody asked for and nobody will possibly answer.
> 
> I'm just going to do whatever i want with my imagination here in this fic if nobody visits. The film is old and i get a lot of ideas from it.  
> Ta-da.

So um...

Just asking... Does anybody want to read another AU based on my characters and the song "Havana" by Camilla Cabello?  
I kind of like the Remix version feat. Daddy Yankee bc its... in Spanish (I'm not sure though. I'm sorry that i know nothing about foreign linguistics).  
It has more of a Latin American vibe to me and most of this "Havana" AU is indeed inspired by this type of feel i get from it.

Basically Leone and Mathilda met at a tourism resort community named Avalon on the island of Catalina, just off the Californian coast. Yes, it does exist, and i have done a small bit of research on that place. Leone has another close friend called Lawrence who works as a DJ in a bar called The Isle, and Leone is basically a singer at that same bar. Those three girls have a comlicated relationship though.

Yeeeeeeeeep.  
*yeet*

Oh and i won't be uploading stuff as frequently as i do recently--

*Dear CIE Exams,*

*Please do me a favor - you can either give me a decent score or go and accompany Satan, surrounded by his wonderful minions, not me.*  
*I swear that i am at least 80% innocent, considering the deeds i have dealt with in my limited years of life, and worthy of your merciful spare.*

*Best regards and thank you very much,*  
*Kairi*


	6. Lost & Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathilda has a dream when she was 15, about 2 years after Leone has taken her in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple of days ago I had a dream. I’ve had it several times before - I recognize a large portion of the things I saw in the dream (I’ve never seen them in real life before, only dreamt them), but every time I get to that scenario it’s a little bit different. This should be the inspiration for my new chapter. I'm going to grant this dream to Mathilda.

I had a dream the night before last. I seldom have these now, and neither does Leone.

I was walking along whitewashed streets, much like the ones in Greece that I saw on outdated travel magazines Leone never bothered to collect in her mailbox (I was usually the one who was bored enough to end up wandering towards it), only without the blue domes on top of all those buildings. Signs were in Japanese and Italian - rotund calligraphy on khaki-colored paper and sleek white paint on quiet, easy backgrounds. The unfortunate thing was, I didn’t have Leone by my side then - and it didn’t feel right.

I quickened my pace, and with every step I took the white paint surrounding me melded a gradient darker until it reminded me of her - Leone’s - eye color. The walls closed into something more like a corridor in Macy’s, excluding the sunlight and the sky. A candy shop was my final destination, and some sort of epiphanic thought told me that as soon as I set foot in front of it.

Maybe it was because the shop smelled like the milk Leone would usually buy for the two of us. Maybe it was because my strange fetish for M&Ms. I wasn’t able to come up with any logical reason regarding why I was rooted right in front of that shop like a determined 5-year-old, but - well, none of my dreams _did_ have any logic in them.

I stood at the shopfront, its roller shutter doors half closed, only allowing one to crawl in on all fours. It reminded me strangely of Leone’s eyes again: a lot of times she would appear at our apartment door late into the night. At these circumstances her eyelids would be half-shut, silhouetting her irises behind - like some morbid person desperately in need for rest - and nobody would think about prying anything from them, much less actually doing so. It required mountainous effort (I believe I can add to that personally).

The queer parallelism between that roller shutter door and Leone’s eyes was a whiplash. She had to be nearby, and I confirmed this from the uneasy, almost painful clench in my stomach. I scrambled into the shop, unsettling all the dust bunnies and whipping up a mini tornado of small, ovate brown leaves from the long dead bonsai nearby. It wasn’t an evergreen.

I hadn’t even gotten rid of the filth on my outfit yet when the environment spun and morphed again, this time into something much darker and colder - a damp clearing in the middle of tall, grim trees. I immediately recognized my surroundings as the Central Park, given the fact I had roamed inside of it practically a million times when Leone wasn’t in, but the familiar, towering shadows of Manhattan which would usually jut out from the skyline yonder weren’t there. A gust of wind brushed past my right ear, a freezing chill sped up my spine; I sprang up like some frantic animal caught in a trap only to be slammed back to the dirt and grass below me again.

I landed, back of my head first, and the impact made my whole body quake with pain (it’s strange that I didn’t wake up right then and there). I struggled to stay conscious, clinging onto the sense of long, unkempt hair tangled in my fingers, even though this sent me goosebumps - I didn’t quite understand the sensation, and the small “click” sound of a distorted memory throbbed right where it felt the most painful.

Hey, it said. How did it feel when I/you finally got to stroke Leone’s hair?

Another “click”, as if the dislodged cogs in my still buzzing head were trying their best to mesh back together, and the object (person?) that knocked me to the ground shifted its position - raised its head - untangled her hair from my fingers with some difficulty - and locked her dark eyes with me. It was a face much younger and expressing much more emotion (yes, it is how it is), but I wasted no time. My right hand went out like a jack-in-the-box in attack and my fingers felt for the scar on her jaw she once told me about.

Sure enough, the scar was there. But it wasn’t quite a scar - it should be referred to as a cut - for it was fresh and bleeding. She yelped, a small, dying sound that resembled a stray dog about to be beaten up by the baseball bats that belonged to gangsters.

My heart sank. Something in my head mouthed “Oh no”, and unfortunately I caught it. Seconds ago everything was all right, and now off again.

The ground whirred, shifted and clunked like some huge mechanical stage prop. We were suddenly speeding down a gradient, trees, shrubs and grasses printing blurred shadows onto my eyes, but we passed them like how one would pass through a hologram. I shut my eyes, refusing to see or hear or feel, mind pawing and flailing for the thought of Leone; _the_ version of Leone that I was familiar with, that I drank cold milk with, that I had some sort of weird attachment with that gave me butterflies in my stomach…

“…Hand.”  
A voice above my head said.

I found myself almost sliding off the side of my bed. Leone was standing right beside me with her eyebrows and corner of mouth quirked upwards. Behind her were open curtains, the morning light shone in and surrounded her figure.

“What’d ya starin’ at?” I tried to slur, gathering myself together and pushing her wrist away as politely as possible.

“Your unique sleeping position.” She exhaled through her nose, somewhat amused. “Breakfast is outside; I’m heading to Tony’s.”

The dulled clink of porcelain on my wooden bedside table suggested the mug was full. Water, maybe.

“Leone,” I blurted out, as she was closing my door behind her.

“Hm?” The door did not reopen. Through the remaining slit I could see the grownup packing a portion of her kit into what looked like a briefcase.

“…Nothing. My dream was as pleasant as one could imagine.” I almost gave myself a mental high-five for coming up with a nice way to begin the most embarrassing conversation ever. (Damn!)

I knew that I needed Leone to stay by, but I didn’t wish to tell her the reason. Just like two years ago when I knocked on her door and prayed silently for her to open it - I couldn’t say that the dead people outside were my family. Now I couldn’t say that the injured person in my dream was Leone herself, and I was scared of losing again. My pride matters the same to me as my life.

The door opened again. Miraculously. More light rushed in like Old Faithful doing its routine eruption, only more horizontally than straight upwards.

“Tell me about it,” She said, “But make it quick. Cut details as you always do, don’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I'm able to write again.
> 
> I had the dream on the night before my birthday. Or does it count as an early gift? Anyways I appreciate my brain for this dream and the chapter i've adapted from it.
> 
> I tried my best to present the dream as - well, "dream-like" as possible, because a lot of them doesn't necessarily make sense. But i also tried my best to link each scene with the relationship Leone and Mathilda had, so I did include how the youngster reacted to the dream. If anybody reads this, hope you like it. I'm writing because it's an enjoyable process.
> 
> My friend who's always been helping me - her name should appear in the co-creator's section soon(if there is one...) i guess.


End file.
